


Soft leather straps

by Ivartheboneme



Series: Ivar [3]
Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Bad BDSM Etiquette, F/M, Spanking, leg restraints, spitting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-29
Updated: 2017-03-29
Packaged: 2018-10-12 13:31:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10491960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ivartheboneme/pseuds/Ivartheboneme
Summary: Ivar has had his eyes on a married woman for a while, and now he finally has her all for himself.Please note that for all of my works that have sexual content, all relevant characters are at least 18 years old. If they are not yet 18 in canon, I age them up.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on a tumblr request, combined with a disuccsion about the straps Ivar uses to keep his legs together.

_How did I get myself into this mess?_ You watch as Ivar slams the door shut and locks it, then throws the key in a corner. It lands somewhere out of sight with a soft clink. He looks up at you, his blue eyes the only feature that you can see clearly in the dark room.

“What are you waiting for? Go stand next to my bed.” Your legs feel numb as you walk to his bed and a weak voice inside your head begs for you to grab the pitcher from his bedside table and attack him with it. _You can stand on your legs so surely you can beat him. Strike from above while he's looking at the floor,_ the voice urges you on. The voice is quickly gagged and forced behind a locked door and you try to tell yourself that the only reason you didn't take the advice is because you know that Ivar would win even if he were unarmed; and you had seen both his axe and his knife move at his belt as he guided you to his room. The true reason is that you've been dreaming of this for weeks. The thought of your bodies melting together under the furs of the prince's bed had you waking up in a sweat, torn between waking your husband up so that he could give you some relief and the saddening realization that he wouldn't do a very good job and thus push you even closer to Ivar. You stop next to Ivar's bed, your face turned towards it. You slip out of your shoes and then reach for the strings that are holding the front of your dress together. His commanding voice cuts through the silence.

“Stop that.” You drop your hands and turn to look at him. He has dragged himself to the small table in the middle of the room and started lighting the candles but his eyes are still locked on to your every movement. You don't protest against his order, instead you let your fingers intertwine and wait in silence for him to finish. Once all the candles on the table are burning, he slides down from the chair and slithers towards you. You can see everything more clearly now; the way his chest moves with every breath and the strand of hair that's managed to free itself from one of his braids. The thought of undoing his braids and running your fingers through his dark hair almost makes you whimper, but you bite your lip to hold it back and shame rises in your throat for what he is making you feel. He smirks at you as if he could hear your thoughts. Ivar pulls himself up on the bed, sits on the edge of it and reaches for the candle on his bedside table. He lights it and then watches the flame flicker before speaking in a calm voice.

“I will be the one to undress you.” A sudden flood of guilt rushes through you; are you really going to allow a man that is not your husband to take you into bed? Birgir wasn't the most passionate husband, but he was kind and you were about to betray him. Your hesitance must be showing in your face because Ivar speaks up again while wrapping his strong arms around your waist and pulling you closer.

“Don't worry (y/n), I will go very slowly. You will have plenty of time to stop me; though I doubt that you're going to.” His large hands rub at the small of your back as he speaks “In fact, I am so sure of your willingness that I am going to offer you a deal.” His eyes light up with dark promises, resulting in an instant rush of heat between your legs “If you find it within yourself to push back and reject my touch before I have undressed you, I will leave you alone and you can go back to your life with that dunga you call husband. But if you don't, you must let me do whatever I want. Whatever I ask of you, whatever way I want to take you; you obey. Deal?” As the last word falls from his lips his hands reposition to squeeze your ass and you let go of the small whimper that you've been holding in. Ivar looks up at you and rolls his jaw slowly; this must be his teasing way of informing you that he knows that you've been staring whenever he's done it for the past five weeks. Despite what your actions tonight may indicate you are not a complete fool; you harbor no false hopes that you will be able to reject the dark prince's advancements. One small step, and you will fall off the cliff. _But Ivar could make me fly._

“Deal.” You whisper, willingly moving closer to the edge. Ivar grins at you like the madman that you know he is. He releases your ass and tugs at your hips to make you turn your back to him. Your heart hammers violently in your chest as he finds the hem of the simple dress and starts to lift it, exposing more and more of your skin. It surprises you that he is keeping his promise to move slowly; he has never shown this much patience before. He pauses for a moment to let his hands explore the areas that he has already uncovered, raking his fingernails over your skin and pinching hard enough for your eyes to tear up. Every jolt of pain is accompanied by an even stronger jolt of pleasure. Once the dress is bunched up around your waist, the palm of his hand cracks against your ass. It's hard enough to make you cry out and you can hear him make some strange, beastlike noise. He starts to stroke over the affected skin but with each movement he inches closer and closer to the bottom of your ass. Ivar doesn't stop there. Instead, he lets his fingers tease along the line where your tightly squeezed together thighs meet. He leans in to let his nose touch against your back.

“Open up.” He breathes into your skin. You swallow hard and think that this is your last real chance of rejecting him; once his fingers reach your folds you will have truly fallen off the cliff.

“I'm waiting.” His voice startles you and before you can stop yourself you move your feet apart, opening your legs for him. He slips his teasing hand in and rubs his palm in circles, spreading your wetness until you can feel your thighs getting soaked. You start to sway your hips and press your sex against his hand, all the while mewling. Ivar repeats the strange noise and starts to rub more eagerly, excited by the response you are giving him. His index finger is teasing at your opening and you think he is about to push it inside when he suddenly stops. You are trembling, panting, wondering why he would be so cruel to not let you feel him inside you.

“I got carried away. The dress has to go first.” Ivar murmurs, more to himself than to you. He slowly, almost reluctantly, moves his now soaked hand up to latch on to your shoulder and presses down; you take the hint and sink to your knees, still facing away from him. He finds the strings at the front of your dress and unties them with a few tugs. His hands slip inside your dress to explore your breasts and he moans loudly as he tugs at your nipples. You try to press yourself further into his grip but he growls in warning and you sit back down; he's not going to let himself divert from the plan again. Then both of his hands are at the hem of your dress again and you lift your arms to help him pull it off. He let's it stay hanging from around your neck and your arms sink back down. Ivar's lips brush against your ear.

“Last chance.” He purrs while raking his nails all the way from your shoulders and down your arms. You let out a choked sob, but neither say nor do anything to stop him. He tugs at the dress one last time and it lands on the floor in front of you and you know that he is smirking behind your back. The bed creaks as he moves and you understand that he is undressing. “Help me with my boots.” He commands. You turn around and try not to look at that damned smug, handsome face of his. From the corner of your eye you can see his jerkin and shirt land on the floor. Of course, Ivar takes your bowed down head as another sign of submissiveness.

“There's a good girl. Now the straps.” You continue to keep your head down as you work on loosening the leather bonds that holds his legs together. The contraption is in surprisingly good condition considering that he uses it every day. The leather is soft and smooth, and you can't help but let your fingers stroke over both the straps and the broader piece at the back that connects them. He must take care of it like it's one of the most valuable items in the world. For a second you think of how you both had to work to spread each others' legs and you have to fight back a nervous giggle. As soon as you've put the leather piece down on the floor he cups your chin and makes you look into his eyes. The blue in them is almost gone, swallowed by the darkness in there.

“You have heard the rumors, haven't you?” Your eyes widen in shock. _This can't be good_.

“I don't know what you are talking about.” You lie. His fingers dig into your skin and you wince.

“Don't lie to me.” He growls “Have you heard the rumors?” You nod rapidly. He purses his lips.

“Watch me, (y/n).” He lets go of your chin again and your gaze follows his hands as they move to the lacing of his pants. His movements are no longer slow, like when he undressed you, instead he seems almost aggressive as he pulls at the strings. He frees his manhood with a loud grunt and stares at you defiantly as you observe it.

“Does it look like I can't satisfy a woman?” He hisses. Up until now you had thought it impossible to get any wetter. Your tongue slides over your bottom lip and you want to reach out and touch his erection, but you suspect that he won't let you do anything more than admire it from afar right now.

“I think you will satisfy me very well, Ivar.” He rolls his jaw again in that suggestive manner and you can briefly see his tongue move in a promising way behind his parted lips.

“I will.” He latches on to your arms and yank you violently upwards “Get on my bed.” You push yourself to standing, only to be instantly swept off your feet and pulled into bed. His rough hands push you onto your stomach and by the way that his weight shifts you can tell that he is reaching for something on the floor. His weight shifts again and he seems to be somewhere around your feet. Ivar lifts your feet and you feel something sliding over your ankles. You start to squirm out of pure instinct, prompting Ivar to slap your ass hard enough for you to wail in some peculiar combination of pain and pleasure. _Birgir would never do such a thing_.

”Hold still.” He grunts and you settle down again, letting go of the thought of your husband. As you feel a strap sliding around your legs and coming to rest right below your knees, you realize what is happening.

”What are you doing?” You ask, more out of shock than lack of understanding.

”Women are fickle beings; I have to make sure that you don't try to back out of our agreement.” Ivar says as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. The second strap closes around your legs and then the third one. They are not made for you and your frame so Ivar spends some time struggling to adjust them, his breathing getting heavier the further along in the process he gets. You wish you could say that he was scaring you and that the straps were uncomfortable; but they feel soft and warm against your skin and you can't help but being honored that Ivar has allowed you to wear his precious aid. He tugs at the restraints to test his work and lets out a purr when he finds the result to be satisfying.

”You're mine now, (y/n). There's no escaping, no going back to that weak husband of yours.”Then Ivar simply sits there for a while, stroking your back. Now that he finally has you naked and willing in his bed, he finds that the sight in front of him is slightly overwhelming and he tries to decide what he wants to do first. He makes up his mind and gives your ass a lazy slap to make sure that he has your attention.

“On your back.” While you turn you take the opportunity to rub first your side and then your back against the furs. They are warm and smell of him. The sensation is wonderful against your skin and you moan.

“What are you doing, (y/n)” Ivar asks while positioning himself over you, his pants slipping further down as he moves. He sounds genuinely surprised and you can't help but smile up at him as one of his hands wanders up your side and to your tits.

“I have dreamt of these furs and our bodies beneath them.” His fingers instantly find one of your nipples and twists it hard.

“You don't get to be under the furs. Where's the fun if I can't see you properly?” Ivar hisses while his hand continues its onslaught. Another wave of heat spreads throughour your body and especially between your legs. You arch into his touch and shake your head desperately to show that you won't hide from him. His eyes light up at your silent plea and he lets go of your abused nipple. Ivar presses on your stomach to make you lie back down and then turns his attention to your collarbone. He continues to move painstakingly slow as his tongue explores your left collarbone and the tension is becoming unbearable, your legs shaking uncontrollably.

“Just fuck me already.” You groan as he is about to descend on your right collarbone. He stops with his face almost touching against your clavicle and chuckles.

“What is so fun-” He stops you by grabbing on to your face and forcing your mouth wide open. He looks at you amused, then his lips curl and he spits into your open mouth. “Swallow.” He orders and loosens his grip on your face. You are still in shock, but remember your promise that you would do whatever he wants. He observes you closely as you swallow his spit and then strokes your hair gently.

“Are you going to keep talking back?” You can hear the veiled threat behind his deceivingly soft voice. You shake your head, not daring to say anything out loud.

“Good girl.” He places a kiss on your forehead and then returns to the neglected collarbone. He continues like this, teasing you mercilessly while you struggle not to make any large movements that he might take as a sign of defiance. Once he is done with your shoulders he moves to your tits and administrates a soothing treatment for the roughly treated area. After that, he makes his way down your stomach until he reaches first your hipbones and then your thighs. Ivar finishes his work and looks up at you. Your chest is heaving and your body is shaking in frustration after having been brought to the brink over and over but always being denied at the last second. He is clearly beyond proud for having put you in such a state.

“Can you open your legs at all?” He asks suddenly. _Is he finally going to push inside? Thank the gods!_ You shift underneath him as you test to see how much you can move. He has done a good job of adjusting the straps and you can only separate your legs a few inches.

“Very little.” You report back to him, still panting. He mulls over your words for a while and then nods.

“I'm going to reward you for being such a good little pet.” He reaches down to the straps and starts to loosen them “You had better not run away or the next time I'll restrain your every limb, your legs spread wide for me.” He warns and you decide not to ruin the moment by telling him just how much you'd like that. Instead, you let out a shocked gasp and try to make yourself look smaller and more vulnerable. Your act elicits a pleased growl from him and he drops the restraints on the floor.

“Get on your knees, facing the headboard.” He moves away from you and you do as he says. Ivar starts to frantically bunch together the furs and blankets in a pile in front of you, his freed erection sticking out of the open pants. All thoughts of going slow seem to have disappeared and you look on in confusion. Finally, he seems to be satisfied with his work and he tugs at your arm.

“Lie down, your lower stomach and hips here.” He pats on the pile. You are still confused and don't react immediately. Ivar tightens his grip. “Do you want me to do a half-assed job like your husband? I need a good angle if I'm to make you scream my name.” You are too far gone to even react at the mention of Birgir; you lower your gaze and reposition. Ivar growls to himself as he removes his pants and lines up behind you. He leans over you and pushes your head down into the mattress; leaving your head low and your ass higher up, completely exposed to him. Once again you feel a delicious ache at the knowledge that you are at his mercy. You can feel his hot breath fan over your neck as he drags himself on top of you and you wonder if this is difficult for him. His hands clasp on to bedlinen and you think that you can hear a small whimper; it seems like he is holding himself up over you only with the strength of his upper body. You can feel his legs carefully shift behind you until they come to rest on one of the stray blankets. He pauses for a moment, then quickly pulls one of his hands back and uses it to guide his cock to your opening. You push your hips back and moan in a clear plea for him to continue; every last inch of you is screaming for him to sheathe himself inside you. As soon as he feels your walls around him he lets his hand return to clasp at the bedlinen and pushes every last bit of his erection inside you. He starts to thrust and you understand that what he said is true; this is a good angle. Each stroke hits the perfect spot and you voice your pleasure, loudly, while squirming against him as much as you can. I will enjoy this as long as it lasts. Ivar is even louder, completely unhinged now that he finally has you where he wants. He rams into you with all the force that he can muster up and you know that you will feel him inside you long after he's pulled out. He brings you to the brink again but this time allows you to take the final step. You push your hips back one last time before digging your nails into the mattress and arching you back. “Ivar!” You wail into the furs as you continue to ride out your orgasm. He grabs on to your loose hair and pulls your face up from the furs.

“Again.” He demands. You have no trouble understanding what he wants, and you call out his name again but this time your face isn't buried and it comes out loud and clear. At the sound of it, Ivar's entire body shudders and he spills inside you with a loud grunt. He stays within you for only a few seconds, the rolls away and reaches for his legs as if to see if they are in worse shape now. You move next to him and pull one of the furs over your bodies. Ivar gives you a disapproving look when the fur hides you from his sight. Then he sighs.

“I will allow it.”


End file.
